


Distractions

by Flarenwrath



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, M/M, Shirtless, Thirsting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarenwrath/pseuds/Flarenwrath
Summary: A heatwave hit Boralus and Flynn is distracting Shaw from his duties
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65
Collections: Fairshaw Week 2020





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> For day one of Fairshaw week - Rope

A heat wave had gripped the isles of Kul Tiras overnight. While Shaw and the rest of those native to the southern parts of Eastern Kingdoms were more than used to suffering through the seasonal onslaught of humidity that rolled in from Stranglethorn every summer, it seemed that their Boralean cousins just weren’t built for it. 

His case in point was that of a one suffering Captain Fairwind. It was barely mid-morning and the pirate had already succumbed to the growing heat of the harbor. Flynn shuffled off his ever-present fur lined coat and dropped it unceremoniously on top of the reports the spymaster had been trying to read before letting out a loud and obnoxious sigh of relief in the process.

Shaw shot him a disapproving scowl before he picked up the offending article and tossed it back at Flynn's feet. Flynn, in turn, seemed to either not notice or perhaps more accurately not care about the poor treatment of his coat. Instead he stepped over it as though it weren't even there before he resumed his pacing around the deck of the Wind's Redemption. His pacing reminded Shaw of those artic creatures at the Darkmoon faire that moped around in their little pens, horribly uncomfortable with their climate but incapable of doing anything to alleviate themselves.

"I’m telling you- it just ain't right for it to be this hot, mate!" he complained for the fifth time that morning as he pushed the sleeves of his thermal shirt up and wiped away the beading sweat from his brow. If it had been anyone else, Shaw would have perhaps felt some spark of compassion, but Flynn just had a way of crawling under his skin that he previously thought impossible.

"Unfortunately for you, the weather is one of the few things I am unable to control," he retorted dryly before returning to his reports. Flynn barked a laugh at the quip instead of taking the hint that he had better things to do than listen to Flynn's complaints. Shaw reread the same sentence of his report twice with increasing frustration. Unable to comprehend any of the words due to the pirate's distractions.

"Ah, you say that, mate-" Flynn teased back in that over friendly way of his as he leaned against the table across from Shaw, just a little too close for Shaw's comfort "-but I've seen you drop the temperature of a room with one glance!" 

Shaw's head snapped up at the taunt and he shot Flynn one of those icy glares. Which, much to his annoyance, only earned him another one of Flynn's laughs. "Aye, that’s the one! That should keep me going a little longer!"

Shaw's jaw clenched and he was about to threaten to toss the pirate overboard if he needed to cool down that much before Admiral Jes-Tereth interrupted with a bellow from the helm. "If you have time to flirt with our Spymaster, Captain Fairwind, then you have time to help raise the sails!" 

"Aye-aye, Ma'am," Flynn called back, his eyes all the while remaining locked with Mathias's own. 

The hairs on the back of his neck rose and if Flynn hadn't turned to join the other sailors on the deck, Shaw would have punched him for looking so smug. With a dismissive scoff he returned to his reports, determined to not let the pirate get to him. At least just this once.

He barely made it through a sentence before he glanced back down the deck. Flynn had removed his shirt, much like many of the other sailors, and was now completely bare-chested save for the shell pendant around his neck. He and the other sailors were supporting the halyard, the thick rope was held tight in his hands, and his biceps were flexing taut at the strain of it. 

Catching himself, Shaw forced his traitorous eyes to return to the documents in front of him. But the more he stared at the paper, the more the words looked more like the incoherent scribblings of a mad cultist than the finely penned reports they were supposed to be. He ran his tongue along his teeth in frustration as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't about to steal another glance. But even as he thought it, he knew he wasn't going to be able to resist.

Once more his gaze flashed down the deck, back to Flynn. The pirate's auburn hair was like fire against his tanned skin, and even from this distance Shaw could easily follow the hair on his chest down his abdomen before frustratingly being hidden from view by the sash and belts around his waist. With the humidity still heavy in the air, it didn't take much for his imagination to supply the image of that shirtless body, sweat dripping down his neck and chest, as he worked to hoist the mainsail. 

A rush of heat suddenly overcame him and he pulled at the collar of his vest for much needed air. The heatwave must have been stronger than Shaw originally thought... Shaw scooped up the reports and decided that his best option was to retire to his personal quarters. The air would be cooler there and there would be no more _distractions_.

**Author's Note:**

> My only sailing knowledge is from fifth grade when our school's field trip had us live on a sailing ship for a week. I was a cook though, so I never had to actually do rigging or anything. Forgive me if Im not 100% accurate. /finger guns/


End file.
